


You Only Truly Know the Men You Fight

by Sleepless_Malice



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, Treat Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22104625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/pseuds/Sleepless_Malice
Summary: Caranthir pays Haleth and her people a visit.
Relationships: Caranthir | Morifinwë/Haleth of the Haladin
Comments: 17
Kudos: 69
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	You Only Truly Know the Men You Fight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grundy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/gifts).



> Thanks to [Idrils_Scribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idrils_Scribe/pseuds/Idrils_Scribe) for beta reading this story for me.

**_You Only Truly Know the Men You Fight_ **

*****

Autumn has come early this year to the Forest of Brethil. The leaves have turned red and golden long ago; soon there will be snow. It already smelled of it. The storm that came that night was particularly fierce as if to compensate for a day’s break in rainfall. The wind howled, and thunder roared outside, the anger of the sky matching Caranthir’s own. And although he planned to stay a while longer among Haleth’s people, time seemed to slip through his hands.

*

Caranthir wished that he simply could cough the words from his throat, that he could just explain to Haleth why she mattered. She was brilliant, witty and sarcastic in a way many found irritating, but that was exactly what Caranthir loved about her. It was the proximity between them that rendered him speechless, the warmth of one he had been looking for for so long.

Caranthir held his silence. Instead of saying anything at all to her, he stared into the fire and drank, partly to quench his anger about his inabilities. It was frustrating to see a well-thought-out plan fail again.

He bade her good night, feeling like a failure. Not that he was unfamiliar with the feeling; children could be cruel, siblings most of all.

She confronted him the next day. “You probably don’t know this, but we Edain don’t have the advantage of immortality. Time is flying for us.”

Caranthir's eyes grew wide, but Haleth decided to ignore him. “Next time you want to brood in front of the fire, do so in your guest house. I didn’t invite you for that.”

This was too much information at once. “My Lady Haleth, I apologize,” Caranthir said and he meant it.

“Save yourself the apologies and the Lady,” she retorted, harsh but not unkind. 

She put one hand on his shoulder. “I invite you for dinner, but only if you’ll actually talk to me.”

The mortification went straight to his guts. Once the shock wore off he had to agree with her. His behavior yesterday had been bad – even for him. But then, it hadn’t occurred all too often that he liked somebody enough to spend several weeks around them.

That night, thanks to a great amount of wine and whiskey Caranthir actually talked - talking himself into trouble.

*

The next day at dawn they met to spar in the dusty training yard of the settlement at the edge of the forest, cold wind blowing from the North. Autumn has long gone by.

“You only ever truly know the men you fight,” Haleth had told him the previous night. There probably was some truth to it, Caranthir had to admit, recalling the fire in her eyes and her smile. “And don’t you dare to go soft on me.”

Even if he didn’t want to he certainly would – Caranthir’s head ached with every step. He was more hung over than he’d been in years, mostly because he wasn’t one for drinking - afraid of losing control of the situation.

Haleth raised her eyebrow. “You look … tired,” she told him and Caranthir was certain that this was just her way of saying he looked completely wrecked.

“I am.”

She laughed. “Should have stopped drinking then?”

Before he could answer her she slashed at empty air and he simply watched her for a second, then swung his arm back with practiced precision. She was right though – he should have stopped drinking last night, preferably before he had even begun. His vision blurred as he dodged her attack, and his stomach turned each time he spun around.

He did not relent. In the swirling snow they chased each other, wet sand grinding under their feet, until they were gasping and soaked in sweat despite the cold. 

A kick to his shin made him lose balance, stumbling backward against the wall of a house near-by. Caranthir did not recover in time. Haleth moved towards him, and then her mailed hand curled around his neck. The metal was chill against Caranthir’s skin and yet he burnt from the touch alone. Haleth was more beautiful than ever like this, with her hair disheveled and glowing cheeks. Caranthir felt his knees grow weak from the way she looked at him, eyes alight with mirth. She didn’t kiss him. Somehow, Caranthir was surprised by it.

“And?” he managed to choke out, still breathless from the fight.

“I know you now,” she said, leaning in close, too close, their lips almost touching. “Time to move our relationship to the next level.”

This was not the answer he expected to receive, but Haleth’s reactions have always been unpredictable. She pinned him against the nearest tree with the full weight of her body and claimed his lips for the first time, snowflakes swirling around them.

*

Caranthir had never told her how little experience he had with women, but he guessed that she knew. Not that it was overly hard to figure out. When she first reached between them after taking her time kissing him, he had already spent. It had been a while when last somebody – someone who hadn’t mattered to him had touched him there. With Haleth it was different, for the simple reason that he cared about her.

*

He was rock hard before they even reached the guest house, fingers trembling as he was locking the door. When she pushed him onto his back and straddled him he was aching for her touch, hot and desperate, close to begging. When she kissed him he wrapped his fingers into her hair, unsure of what else to do. Caranthir was not used to being kissed. His past experiences had been mostly with fellow soldiers; a handjob in the stables, hidden from prying eyes.

With Haleth it was different.

In her arms he came alive; in her arms the forsaken Oath kept silent for a little while. Perhaps her kisses were a promise, Caranthir thought as he lifted his head to kiss her again, daring to dream of a better world in which the Oath would sleep forever, ignoring the fact that she was mortal for his own peace of mind. Hope stung tears into his eyes and he clung on her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder as even then the Oath’s whispers flooded his mind. In that direction lay nothing but tears and pain, and so he kept murmuring into Haleth’s skin, trailing gentle fingers along her stomach as he had learned she liked it best. And so did he – Caranthir loved to lay like this, could do it for hours without anything else.

*

It was not hard to guess what she intended as she pushed his hand downward. When he touched her there for the first time he didn’t quite know what to do - he’s never come that far with any woman he has met. Haleth told him, with words and touches both, and he was attempting to determine what it is she meant. Though her hands were roughened by sword and arrow they were still delicate compared to his. He looked at his calloused hands, his fingers scarred and burnt.

Haleth didn’t bother to conceal her amusement at that, pressing his index finger further down. “Get on with it, I don’t mind,” she whispered, and with every thrust of his finger she kept telling him how good it felt – which Caranthir assumed was a lie. He was certain, his attempt at pleasuring her is clumsy at best. Haleth’s words sunk deeper into Caranthir’s bones than he’d ever thought possible; the way she whispered against his skin, encouraging him to go further than he’d ever dared; the way she kissed and guided him.

*

A few days later, emboldened by the way she spoke to him, Caranthir took advantage of her momentary distraction. He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up on the table, just as he has imagined it quite often.

“What are you doing?” she asked, but Caranthir kept his silence, delighting in the way she smiled at him when finally she understood. He kissed her briefly on the lips before kneeling down in front of her. Shadows of the burning fire danced upon her skin, glowing golden by the flames.

The muscles in her thighs were already trembling with tension as he began to kiss her stomach, her breasts, taking his time to discover each inch of her body anew, and although his fingers were trembling he somehow managed to rid her of her trousers.

In his nightly fantasies, he was quite skilled. In reality, he most certainly was not, with his experience how to use a mouth being limited exclusively to men. She enjoyed herself regardless, the way her fingers wove into his hair told him as much, the fact that she was wet all the more.

_Wet for him._

Perhaps it should not spark possessiveness, but nevertheless it did.

It was her desire that got Caranthir; so free, and delightful; so totally unashamed. Caranthir’s hands came up to grip her hips, pulling her even closer against his mouth. Each of her gasps and moans crackled down his spine and in the wake of it, Haleth caught his hair into her fists. He dared a glance upwards as best as he could to watch the fire in her eyes as he lapped his tongue until she pleaded to keep him going.

Her excitement was more than he could bear and yet his mind kept planning. What would it be like if she sat on his face, Caranthir wondered, grinding against him, dictating the rhythm? How would he feel, to him, to her, feeling her body tighten and tense, just as he did now? Above him, Haleth was shaking and straining, arching up against Caranthir’s mouth and easily he lost himself in the cadence of her voice during the height of pleasure. 

*

The Oath had long since awoken. Dense snowfall hindered their sight as they rode for Menegroth in that wretched winter night. Caranthir didn’t know about his brothers but to him, snowflakes meant one thing – Haleth. The time with her had long run out and only memories of days of bliss and beauty prevailed. He was content that he now knew what it was like to hold somebody close, and be held tight in the midst of the night; touches so light, so beautiful, endless and full of hope like shimmering stars.

*


End file.
